


Why Pike Gets to Call Lynch Cupcake

by therealfroggy



Category: A-Team (2010)
Genre: M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-05
Updated: 2012-12-05
Packaged: 2017-11-20 10:13:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/584246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therealfroggy/pseuds/therealfroggy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They love to hate each other. Or is it the other way around?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why Pike Gets to Call Lynch Cupcake

“Pike.”

“Yeah, cupcake?”

“Okay, first off, you don’t get to call me cupcake after I found out you used to call your last boyfriend that,” Lynch snapped. The former CIA agent was scowling. “Secondly, what the hell, Pike? Why did you kill him?”

He pointed agitatedly to the man whose broken neck was resting against the controls.

“He was _looking_ at you,” Pike snarled, giving the dead body another vengeful little kick. “Pervert fucker.”

Lynch sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Pike. Brock. Not that I don’t find this whole caveman thing of yours hot and all, but you _killed the pilot_.”

Pike shrugged. “Nobody looks at my boy like that.”

“And I appreciate the gesture,” Lynch said, patting Pike on the shoulder. “But he was our fucking pilot! Do _you_ know how to fly one of these things?”

Pike looked around in the small cockpit. He frowned. Then he repeated, as if this explained everything: “He was looking at you wrong.”

Lynch gave a frustrated groan. “Brock! This is the third time this month you’ve gone after a guy for no reason at all! Remember that guy last week who you shot in the knee? The one you thought was making a move on me?”

“He was touching you.”

“He was a Mormon Elder, dickhead! He was inviting me to their Sunday service!” Lynch screamed. “Look, you know I like this killing and violence shit just as much as you do, but you have got to stop fucking up our plans with it!”

“So you’re not mad because I broke this guy’s neck?” Pike asked.

“No, you fucking Neanderthal, I’m mad because now we don’t have a pilot, and we’re stuck on this fucking island until we can find another one! We’ll be here for another day at the very least. I’m sick of this ass-ridden, middle-of-nowhere dump, Pike!”

“Don’t call me that, muffin, I hate it when you call me that,” Pike growled.

“Brock. Get us another pilot, get us out of here, and do it now. Or I’ll be calling you Pike for the next month,” Lynch snapped.

***

An hour later, Lynch was still sitting in the old hangar feeling snappish, and Pike finally made an appearance after having called every guy (and one woman) on his list.

“Hey, muffin. When you call me Pike, that’s when you actually mean you won’t put out, right?”

“Congratulations, you’re a fucking genius,” Lynch confirmed.

“Aaw, come on, there’s no need to go there,” Pike cajoled, sitting next to Lynch and clamping a hand on the smaller man’s thigh in a vice-like grip. “You know you don’t like it when I have to force you.”

“First off, you shouldn’t force me, and second, we both know I _do_ like it so shut up,” Lynch said sourly. “But we also both know _you_ hate it when I won’t cuddle with you after, and there’s nothing you can do to force me to cuddle. So I’m holding back on your cuddling privileges.”

Pike growled angrily. “You’re starting to piss me off, cupcake, and you know how I get when you piss me off.”

Lynch sniffed tartly and turned pointedly away to stare at their disappointingly unmoving plane. “Get however you want, I’m going to stay mad at you until we get off this fucking island.”

With a snarl, Pike lunged for the other man and grabbed him by the shirtfront, pulling him up to hiss in his face. “You asked for it, cupcake.”

“Don’t call me cupcake,” Lynch said coldly, but just then Pike slammed him back against the wall so hard he lost his breath and he couldn’t speak again.

Pike threw the younger man down over a nearby heap of various assorted cargo implements, following him down with a wolfish expression on his face. “Just remember, when your ass is too sore to sit down for a week, that you brought this on yourself, muffin.”

Lynch was pushed down onto his stomach, spread compromisingly over a crate and a jumble of fishing nets. A sharp corner was digging into his hip, making him wince, but Pike was pressing him down, the other man a solid weight on his back. Lynch could tell the other man was finding this very much to his liking from the hard heat pressing against the small of his back.

Pike tore their pants open, tearing a seam somewhere in Lynch’s and barely getting his own belt open for fumbling. He was painfully hard, seeing the other man forced down under his own hands. He wanted to be inside Lynch’s shivering body, preferably five minutes ago.

“Suck,” Pike ordered, holding two fingers in front of Lynch’s mouth.

The younger man bit him, hard, making Pike growl. He flipped the former agent over onto his back, and backhanded him forcefully across the face. “Suck, or this is gonna hurt a lot more than it has to.”

With a sullen glare, Lynch opened his mouth and sucked Pike’s fingers into his mouth, tongue working to coat them slickly in saliva. The heat and sucking motion of the other man’s pretty mouth almost made Pike lose it; he groaned and dived in, pressing his mouth hard to Lynch’s. When Lynch bit his lip, too, Pike’s dick throbbed and he reached down with his wet fingers, pushing them unceremoniously into Lynch.

“Fuck!” Lynch gasped, clenching around the intruding digits. The former agent’s full-blown erection belied his pained expression and Pike scissored his fingers, enjoying every little whimper and hiss he drew from the other man.

“You’re gonna have such a pretty bruise,” Pike groaned. He spat in his hand, stroked his own hard-on to coat it in saliva, and spat again, rubbing his moistened fingers once more over Lynch's asshole. “I’m gonna have to hit you again, muffin, just to make sure that bruise stays there.”

With a hard shove of his hips, he sank into Lynch’s already battered body, making the smaller man scream out and relishing in the vibrations it sent through both their bodies.

“Scream for me, darling,” Pike ordered, thrusting again.

“Fuck you, Pike!”

Lynch's body was fighting the intrusion, tightening and jerking away from Pike. But the former agent's hands were on Pike's neck, pulling at him, forcing him closer yet. Lynch's fingernails left red welts in the skin there, a few little droplets of blood welling up.

“Harder,” Lynch gasped, feet kicking ineffectually at the back of Pike's knees. “Fuck!”

“Shut up, muffin, or I'll gag you,” Pike snarled, raising himself up on his hands and throwing his back into it. That made Lynch squeal like a girl, and Pike grinned.

Harder still, he drove into the other man's ass, rutting like an animal in heat until Lynch looked up at him with wide eyes and gave him that pleading look. Unable to resist those fucking puppy dogs, Pike reached between them and began jacking him off, stroking hard until he could feel Lynch begin to tense up. When the smaller man's body was almost unbearably tight around his dick, Pike bit down hard on Lynch's neck and flicked a fingernail over the head of the hardness in his hand.

Lynch came with a scream that drove Pike completely out of his mind. Between the twitching contractions and the sounds of pain blended with orgasm that Lynch was making, Pike didn't even want to hold back. The mercenary threw his head back and slammed home, pressing into Lynch hard as he came, pumping his release into the limp body beneath him.

As soon as he could come down from his high, Pike pulled out of his partner and laid down right on top of him, panting. Fuck, yeah. That was one hell of a ride.

“I'm glad one of us enjoyed it, because I fucking didn't,” Lynch said bitterly, trying to wriggle away under the hard body still pinning his own. Pike let him get just far enough that their bodies weren't touching, remembering full well how Lynch had reacted the last time he'd tried to force him to cuddle. The former agent was on his side, back to the dark-haired man.

Pike sighed, trying to sound angry but finding it difficult in his post-coital state of contented who-gives-a-fuck.

“For your information, muffin, I just got off the phone with Darren before we fucked, and he knows a guy who’ll be here in a few hours,” Pike muttered sourly.

Lynch's body seemed to perk up. “Yeah?”

“You'll have your pilot in three hours, four tops,” Pike said. Fuck, he wanted nothing more than to feel the smaller man curled up to him and letting Pike spoon him, like he usually did. But there was a world of difference between holding an unresponsive, bitchy Lynch, and holding a warm, just-fucked, cuddly Lynch.

Lynch turned around, a small smile playing around the corners of that damnably kissable mouth. “Brock?”

“Yeah?” Pike couldn't really focus on the conversation when Lynch shifted back into his grip, fitting their bodies together just so.

“Call me cupcake?”

Finally. Next time, Pike decided, he wouldn't actually kill the pilot. He could settle for a bullet in the kneecap.


End file.
